The reader

A grand day!

I managed to get in a good night's sleep, which was badly needed after last week's hectic work sessions and yesterday's last-minute preparations for hosting the music session. I'd arranged last night with Carl that I'd pop over to his place this morning, and was there at 10.00. After a nice poached egg breakfast and a half-hearted catch-up with Hollyoaks Carl introduced me to his new (Acer) laptop. He'd mentioned during the week that he'd been playing Monkey Island, and I'd downloaded the demo and had a quick try-out of it during a short work break. My experience hadn't been all that good, and problems with a jumping curser made it frustratingly difficult to control game-play, so I'd quickly given up on it. Carl was convinced that I'd enjoy it if I tried it again, so I had a go on his machine. No control problems with that once I got used to it, and I even made a bit of (hint-assisted) progress.

Carl's suggestion of brunch in Ouzo's dragged me away from the game. Outside, I got a huge surprise when Carl suggested we walk to Dalkey rather than take the car! Good plan. Brunch was no great shakes, really, and we actually had to send back their first attempt at Bloody Marys because the Tabasco had been overdone so much (they brought the jar of Tabasco to the table with the second batch, which I didn't think was the best solution). A noisy family at the table beside ours didn't help either, with four young children making as much racket as an entire school playground.

Outside after brunch the question was: where to? The Sorrento was a bit hectic and uninviting and In has closed down, so our fist stop was The Kings. It was okay, though service could have been better and the pints , which seemed okay at first, didn't live up to the first impression. We tried what used to be McDonagh's at the other end of the village, but it was infested by a ridiculously high number of TVs blaring away with some ridiculous and irrelevant football match (even two screens in the bar, which we thought might be football-free). The Queens across the road was no better, so we gave up on Dalkey and walked on to Sandycove.

Thanks be for Fitzgeralds! Okay, there were TVs on there too, but they didn't have the commentary blaring away at full blast, service was brilliant, the pints were really good, and the whole experience was just what a good old-fashioned pub should be. We spent a really pleasant while there as the sun broke through the clouds in the evening sky and spilled in on this guy at a table nearby, utterly oblivious of everyone around him, wrapped up in his book and at peace with the world. (This is worth a look big, incidentally.)

One recorded episode of Ballykissangel back at Carl's place brought a terrific day to its perfect end.

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